


An Honest Heart

by Reinamy



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Background Relationships, F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-08-16 21:22:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8118040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reinamy/pseuds/Reinamy
Summary: As a general rule, good things don't happen to Mikasa at parties. Meeting Erwin just might be the exception to that rule. Extra emphasis on might be.





	

**Author's Note:**

> *Coughs* Written for Day 2 of [Erumika Week](http://erumikaweek.tumblr.com/) (for the prompts _awkward encounters_ & _trying something new_ ).
> 
> ETA: Edited for typos.

 

"Hey, Mikasa. Listen—"

"Sorry, Jean," Mikasa interrupted, walking past him without looking in his direction. "I have to check on the cake."

She pretended not to hear him grumble as she ducked into the kitchen, more than happy to put distance between herself and the guests that were currently invading her home. She breathed a sigh of relief when the door closed behind her, muffling the sounds of chatter and laughter and whatever mainstream pop song was streaming through the speakers. She took a second to revel in the moment of privacy she'd snatched for herself before she pushed away from the door and made a beeline for the oven.

Grabbing a potholder from the countertop, Mikasa pulled it open, flinching when a blast of heat struck her face. She leaned back, then carefully pried the door open so she could scrutinize the cake.

It _looked_ good, she thought, but Mikasa had made that mistake before—had taken the browned exterior at face value, dismissing the possibility that the inside could be raw. Eren had paid the consequences of her carelessness then (and would _never_ let her live it down) and Mikasa was determined not to make the same mistake twice. So she poked a fork into the center, perhaps with more force than was necessary, and grinned to herself when the tines came away clean.

 _Perfect_.

Mikasa removed the cake, shutting the oven door with her hip, and popped it into the freezer to cool. She then plopped into a chair to wait.

Roughly twenty minutes later found her wiping sweat into her sleeve and stepping away from the cake—now layered with white frosting and adorned by silver sugar pearls, and surrounded on all sides by strawberries and dollops of cream—and tilting her head as she examined it. All that was needed was to insert twenty-three candles and pipe _Happy Birthday, Eren!_ on the top and she'd finally be done.

Eren had better appreciate this, because she was never, _ever_ going to bake another cake from scratch.

Mikasa was in the process of finishing off an extra strawberry when the door slammed open, startling her so badly she banged her knee on the underside of the table. She turned a glare at the intruder, and wasn't surprised in the least to find Sasha wringing her hands at the doorway. Twice already Sasha had tried to sneak in, no doubt in search of the snacks Mikasa had smartly hidden. Mikasa would set them out _only_ after Levi texted to tell her he and Eren were nearby—otherwise she could kiss any hope of there still being snacks when Eren arrived goodbye.

"Out," Mikasa ordered, resolute in the face of Sasha's puppydog eyes.

"But I'm _starving,_ Mikasa," the girl whined, one hand rubbing circles into her belly to emphasize that. "Just a tiny little snack, please?"

Mikasa thought about denying her, but reconsidered, thinking that it really would be more beneficial to give in. The kitchen had become Mikasa's safe haven of sorts—something to keep her apart from the raucousness on the other side of the door—and the sooner she gave Sasha something to tide her over the sooner the girl would go away, leaving Mikasa to enjoy the privacy while it lasted.

She retrieved a family-sized bag of pretzels from the cabinet under the sink and tossed it to Sasha, who grabbed it with a gleam in her eye and a lick of her lips.

"Thanks!" she crowed, and disappeared.

Mikasa shook her head and got back to work.

 

* * *

 

Mikasa's phone buzzed against her thigh as she set the sticky pastry bag down onto the table. She didn't even need to check to see what the incoming text read—an instant later a chorus of voices whisper-shouted "They're down the block!" and the noise level in the adjacent room rose several notches as things were hurriedly moved around. Mikasa made quick work of washing her hands, drying them on her apron, and moved to grab the finished cake. It was barely off the table when she remembered that Marco's cupcakes were still in the fridge—a security measure against Sasha's sticky fingers—and swore. She needed help.

She was carefully setting the cake back down when the door swung open and a deep, unfamiliar voice asked, "Do you require any help?"

"Yes, please," she said immediately, relieved. "Here, grab the cake." And then, because guys had a tendency to do _really idiotic things_ to impress her, hastily added: "Use _both hands_ , okay, and be _careful—_ "

Mikasa turned and saw the guy, and her mouth clamped shut.

"Well," the stranger _with_ _one arm_ said, "that isn't an option for me, I'm afraid, but I assure you the hand I do have is steady."

A beat of awkward silence followed his words, until Mikasa cleared her throat. "I'll eviscerate you if you drop the cake, one hand or not."

The lines at the corner of the man's striking blue eyes deepened as his lips curved. "Duly noted," he said, voice laced with amusement. His eyes remained on Mikasa for a long moment before they fell to the cake.

Wondering why she was even daring to risk it, Mikasa lifted the tray over the man's waiting palm and lowered it onto it. The cake wobbled a little during the transfer, but became steady again once the man took hold of it.

"I waited tables during college," he explained, and the part of Mikasa that was still embarrassed over her slight wanted to snap at him that she hadn't asked, but she clenched her throat around the words before they passed.

"I see," was all she managed to say, then moved around the man to open the door, careful not to bump into his stump. She was honest enough with herself to admit that the majority of her concern was for the cake.

The man glanced at her as he walked past, a flicker of something in his eyes that Mikasa had trouble naming but made her feel slightly short of breath, and she watched him make his way to the table at the far end of the living room and set the cake carefully down.

Her eyes lingered on the way his back muscles flexed beneath his shirt before the phone in her pocket buzzed, causing her to jump, and someone next to her hissed, "They're downstairs!"

It jumpstarted Mikasa's distracted brain. She spared a final glance at the man—just to ensure he secured the cake somewhere it wouldn't tip over—and then rushed to grab Marco's cupcakes from the fridge.

* * *

 

The invasion of her home, the hours she'd spent slaving over a cake, Jean and Hitch's unwanted attentions, the abysmal music pounding at her eardrums, the mess that she'd undoubtedly have to clean when the party was over everyone was gone—all of it was worth it to see Eren's eyes light up when he stepped into their dark, silent apartment and got bombarded with confetti and streamers and shouts of "Happy Birthday, Eren!" so loud that the people across town could probably hear.

Her brother glowed in his excitement, grin bright and wide as he elbowed Levi in the side before drawing him in for a kiss that had everyone whooping and catcalling. Moments later the lights were back on, and the terrible music with it, and Mikasa waited her turn to receive a bone-crushing hug from the birthday boy before disappearing into the kitchen for a drink.

Barely five minutes passed before Armin found her and dragged her back into the chaos. Mikasa did her best to pretend she wasn't as uncomfortable as she was, if only to see Eren's ever-present grin widen whenever their eyes met across the room, and mingled with the others as best as she could.

It wasn't that Mikasa didn't get along with them—she did. But she did better in smaller groups and quieter settings. Having to keep track of so many people and the sheer number of conversations held between them, all the while struggling to hear and be heard over the racket, was exhausting. Between that and fending off Jean and Hitch's exasperating efforts to score a date with her…she didn't last long before the onset of overstimulation made itself known beneath her skin.

Mikasa retreated into the kitchen not even twenty minutes after Armin had pulled her out of it and lamented the fact that the party had only just begun.

 

* * *

 

"Oi, Mikasa! C'mere for a sec!"

Mikasa turned away from Ymir and Krista, who were gazing at each other in a way everyone knew meant they were two seconds away from making out, and followed Eren's voice to the center of the room. He was seated on one of the sofas, Levi predictably at his side, and waving her over. Mikasa excused herself and went to him.

"I want to introduce you to someone," Eren said, and then gestured to someone next to him, hidden from her view. "Reiner, move!" Eren demanded, shoving at the guy's legs, and Reiner scoffed but left, dragging a flustered Bertholdt with him.

Mikasa's throat went dry when she found herself looking at the man who'd carried her cake.

"Erwin, meet my sister, Mikasa. Mikasa, this is Erwin, Levi's best friend. Well, one of them, but Hange couldn't make it so we're stuck with this one."

Erwin shifted in his seat and laughed, a deep rumbling sound that reminded Mikasa of the engine on Jean's new, expensive car.

"Nice to meet you properly, Mikasa," Erwin said, regarding her from under thick, blond lashes. He enunciated her name slowly like he was testing the way it felt on his tongue.

Mikasa shivered, then wondered if someone had left the door to the balcony open.

"You, as well," she said, and bit the inside of her cheek.

Eren's gaze swiveled between them. He made a small sound of confusion that Erwin, without looking away from her, chose to address.

"Yes, we've met, though only briefly. I volunteered to carry the cake out." He paused, and it was with a sinking sensation in her stomach that Mikasa noticed the telltale twitch at the corner of his mouth. "Mikasa was _very_ insistent that I use both hands to carry it at first, then proceeded to threaten me with evisceration and watch me like a hawk to ensure I didn't drop it. Not that I blame her, mind—the cake looks exquisite."

Heat stole into her cheeks as Levi barked a laugh and Eren shot her a look that was equal parts scandalized and resigned. She glared at Erwin because there really hadn't been a need to disclose _any_ of that, and the man merely smiled at her, his striking eyes glittering with amusement.

Mikasa resisted the urge to act on her childish impulse to kick him and said to Eren as evenly as she could, "I'm going to get something to drink, but I'll swing by again later. Want me to bring back anything?"

Eren lifted his cup shook his head.

Mikasa nodded, then grudgingly turned to Erwin and said, "It was nice meeting you, Erwin."

"You as well, Mikasa."

Mikasa nodded once, stiltedly, and walked away, very pointedly ignoring the suspicious quickening of her pulse and the voice in the back of her head accusing her of running away.

 

* * *

 

It was cold out on the balcony. The woolen shawl she wore did little to shield her from the chill of the air, but still she stayed, arms crossed over the banister as she gazed out at the slumbering city, dark but for the film of light the moon cast over it and the scattered glow of street lamps and lit windows, and further, pinpricks of white light signaling the boats on the river.

Behind her the party was winding down. Some minutes before the music had been turned off, replaced by quiet murmurs of conversation. More than half the guests had already left and those that remained were nestled together on the sofas. Mikasa had been, too, up until a short while ago when the need for solitude had driven her to the one place few would dare to follow. The fresh air was a balm to her frayed nerves, even laced with ice as it was.

Mikasa couldn't say how long she'd been standing there before the balcony door slid open and someone stepped inside. Her gaze did not stray from the dancing lights of the city even when the interloper claimed the space beside her, close enough that she could feel the fringes of their warmth but not close enough to touch.

"The view up here is stunning," Erwin Smith observed.

Mikasa caught the smoke of his breath from the corner of her eye.

It was strange. She ought to have felt more upset by this deliberate breach of her solitude, and yet there was an undeniable curl of something in her stomach that had slowly begun to unfurl when she realized it was him. She exhaled, ignoring the unsettling sensation building within her, and turned her head to answer, but was struck momentarily silent by the picture his profile made—sharp edges softened by moonlight, highlights bright and shadows dark, golden hair and skin gleaming white.

"It is," she said, when she could. "The rent on this place is high, but the view it offers makes it worth it."

"Will you be able to keep this place after Eren moves out next month?" he asked, and Mikasa could admire the bluntness of his question even if the intrusiveness of it rankled.

"Armin and I can handle it just fine," she said shortly.

And they could—Eren had made sure of it. Mikasa knew Levi has popped the question months ago, yet Eren had patiently waited for Armin to get promoted and Mikasa to acquire the license she needed for a salary increase before making any serious plans to leave. Once they had, and made enough to cover the rent on their own, he set a date and that had been that.

Mikasa didn't begrudge him leaving, much as it saddened her.

It helped _a lot_ that Levi's apartment was only two-point-four miles away and Eren swore to visit them as often as he could.

Erwin said, "That's good. I'm glad," and it was such a strange thing to say to someone he didn't really know that Mikasa braved another sideways glance. Erwin, much like her, was bent over the banister, his one arm propped onto it. His eyes were trained on her, dark as if they were leeching color from the night itself, and he looked so very serious that Mikasa almost wanted to look away.

She didn't.

"You're interested in me," she said with slowly dawning realization, watching as as Erwin's lips quirked in an ambiguous smile.

"I am," he agreed easily. "Does that bother you?"

_Not as much as it should, all things considered._

It took Mikasa a moment to realize she'd said that out loud.

But Erwin didn't look offended—only curious.

"Considering?"

"Your personality is terrible," Mikasa told him honestly. And it was—she'd spent barely any time at all with the man and already she could tell that much. Erwin was the type who liked to test people, who liked caging them in uncomfortable situations to observe how they'd react. Discomfited people, after all, were _honest_ people, even if they didn't intend to be—that was something that Mikasa, who also preferred such methods of disarmament, understood well.

She wouldn't have been bothered had it been just that, but it wasn't. Mikasa had come to realize that Erwin just genuinely _enjoyed_ making people uncomfortable, in a way that Mikasa herself only did when she was seeking retribution for a slight, and that was the aspect of his personality she was most wary of.

Though perhaps not as wary as she should have been.

Erwin blinked. He opened his mouth, closed it, blinked again. And then he threw back his head and _laughed_ —a surprised but genuinely delighted sound that rang clearly in the small, private space of the balcony.

Mikasa couldn't have looked away even if she'd wanted to.

It seemed inconceivable that this man, already so unfairly gorgeous, could become _more so,_ and yet he _had._ Like this, with his eyes shut and his head tipped back, laugh lines pronounced and teeth bared up at the sky, he was so devastatingly gorgeous that it took her breath away.

Mikasa's stomach fluttered in a way it hadn't in a long, long time.

"It is," he said once he'd calmed down, turning his grin at her, "but I do try not to inflict my _terrible personality_ on those I'm romantically interested in, if that helps."

"It doesn't," Mikasa said flatly, turning her head to hide the way her face heated at his words.

The way her body reacted to this man was _ridiculous_. Hitch had been just as straightforward when it came to making her intentions known but Mikasa's heart hadn't so much as twitched despite the woman being _very_ easy on the eyes. Jean, who subtler but just as obvious, had also failed to stir anything resembling interest inside of her.

And yet here she was, coming undone because a man—who was twice her age and one limb short—told her she was the focal point of his romantic interest.

Erwin shifted his weight and laughed again. "No, I don't suppose it does. With that being the case, I'm afraid it's _imperative_ that you agree to go on a date with me, if only to ascertain for yourself how well-behaved I can be when I try."

 _He thinks he's so charming,_ she thought with a roll of her eyes.

Never mind that she was biting her bottom lip against a smile.

"I have a feeling that you at your best behavior is still most people's worst," she retorted, brushing strands of fallen hair behind her ear. A pause, and then she carefully said, "But I suppose I'll have to see."

Mikasa stole a peak at him from the corner of her eye and very nearly looked away again at the way he was gazing at her. She exhaled a cloud of smoke and fought back a full-body shiver that had little to do with the cold.

Erwin's smile gained an edge of smugness that he tried, and failed, to hide. He started to say something, but a sharp rap on the glass door made him stop.

"Oi, Erwin," came a muffled voice from the other side.

They both turned as Levi slid the door open with a grimace.

"Jesus fuck, it's freezing out here," he said, eyeing the two of them like they were insane before his eyes settled on Erwin. "I'm heading out now, so unless you want to grab a cab back you'd better cut whatever the hell you're doing out here short."

Levi flicked a curious glance at Mikasa as he closed the door, then shook his head and retreated with a grumble of something undiscernible but doubtlessly unkind under his breath.

And that was the man her brother thought hung the moon and the stars.

She honestly didn't get it.

Her attention was snagged elsewhere when Erwin pushed off the banister with a snort.

"As much as I'd love to continue our conversation, Levi really will leave if I'm not at the door when he is," he said apologetically.

Mikasa didn't doubt that; Eren had said the same many times before.

For an uncertain moment she fiddled with the tassels of her shawl, tugging at one particularly frayed one until it unraveled, then told herself to stop being a coward and dug her phone out of her pocket.

"Your number. May I have it?"

Erwin looked pleased. "Of course," he said, followed by a series of numbers that Mikasa carefully inputted then read back to him. Once he was added as a contact she sent him a quick text—just a simple, _This is Mikasa Ackerman—_ and heard his phone beep as it was received. She watched as he absently patted the right pocket of his coat, not once looking away from her.

"We'll speak again soon, I suppose. It truly was a pleasure meeting you, Mikasa," Erwin told her, offering his hand for her to take.

She did, ignoring the tendril of disappointment gripping her heart. "Yeah, you too."

Erwin smiled, gave her hand a quick squeeze, then pulled away.

Mikasa tried to do the same, but instead found herself tightening her grip and stepping forward. Hardly thinking, she brought her hand up to his left shoulder, careful not to disturb the empty sleeve, and did the same on his other side.

Erwin hesitated, visibly startled, but she didn't let that deter her. Instead she inched closer, movements slow enough that her intentions were clear, slow enough that he could stop her if he really wanted to, but he didn't. And so with her heart pounding away in her chest, in her ears, she pushed onto her tiptoes and raised her head. In the seconds before Mikasa's eyes fluttered shut she saw Erwin's narrow with surprise, and then their lips met and thoughts of anything that wasn't _this_ dispersed.

The kiss was cold, and dry, and the angle of their heads made it more than a little awkward until they shifted—Mikasa easing back, Erwin tilting his face so his nose was no longer crushing hers—and then it was nice. _Really nice._ Nice enough that when his tongue skimmed the crease of her lips, cautiously seeking permission to enter, Mikasa opened to him without hesitating even though she didn't _do_ things like this. Didn't kiss older men with terrible personalities that she barely knew, even if said men had beautiful eyes and sinful voices and mouths that tasted strongly of cake.

Everything became warmer after that—the heat of his breath, his mouth; the warmth of his body against hers; the fingers threading her hair, pausing only to brush the nape of her neck.

Erwin took her bottom lip between his teeth and _sucked_ , and Mikasa's breath stuttered as she clung to him, realizing only when he shivered in turn that she had accidentally grasped the stump of his arm, near the severed base, and she broke off to apologize but Erwin just shook his head and told her it was fine, that _she_ was fine, and kissed her harder and—

Another incessant rap at the door.

"Didn't I tell you to cut whatever you were doing out here short so we could fucking go?" a bundled-up Levi snapped, glowering at the two of them from the other side of the glass. "You _know_ I have to get up early as balls tomorrow, fuckbrows. You've got _one minute_ or I _will_ leave you _._ Hurry the fuck up."

Piece said, Levi stomped off and disappeared down the hall.

Mikasa, lips tingling and heart hammering and gasping for breath, slowly lowered herself to her feet.

"Fuckbrows?" she asked, amused despite the heat still coiling in her gut.

Erwin sighed. "Levi is…creative with his terms of endearment," he said, as out of breath as she was, and with a regretful smile, removed the hand still tangled in Mikasa's hair and took a reluctant step back.

"Call me," Mikasa said as she did the same, because the urge to close the distance between them and kiss him again was overwhelming. Her stomach flared at the thought.

"I will," Erwin promised, and after a long, lingering look that Mikasa felt deep in her bones, bid her goodbye and left.

Only when she heard the door to the apartment slam shut a moment later did she press her heated face into her hands and smile.

 

* * *

 

Much later, after everyone had left and she and Armin were in the living room cleaning up the mess, Armin asked if she'd had a good time.

Mikasa paused in her sweeping and said yes, and to her surprise, found that it wasn't a lie.

 

 

_**The End** _

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments are super appreciated, as always! ♥


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